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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24773593">Polyjuice Confessions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alfisha'>alfisha (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tomarry Oneshots [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempt at Humor, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter &amp; Tom Riddle Attend Hogwarts Together, Humor, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Oblivious Harry Potter, Slytherin Common Room, Sneaky Slytherins, of course, this is kinda cracky, tom pining for harry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:09:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24773593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alfisha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, Ron and Hermione take Polyjuice to interrogate Riddle about the Heir of Slytherin. Instead, Riddle spills a secret that leaves the three of them questioning their existence.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Tom Riddle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tomarry Oneshots [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>616</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Incident</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay. i thought of this at 4am, but i've been told that there's a drarry headcanon of this. so maybe my brain just decided that it should be tomarry and i forgot about it, idk. anyway, enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s a genius plan, really. Harry owes Hermione for this one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s foolproof. The three of them disguise as Malfoy, Parkinson and Zabini, and get Riddle to tell them that he’s the Heir of Slytherin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Absolutely foolproof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry glances at Ron and Hermione, each of them holding their own Polyjuice. They look as nervous as Harry feels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” he asks, and Hermione nods, pale-faced. Ron gulps, but raises his glass and tries to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheers.” he says shakily, and they each bring their glasses to their lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry chugs as much as he can without gagging, then drops the glass in shock. Hermione chokes, and rushes into a nearby stall, Ron close behind. Harry leans over the sink, trying to keep the sludgy liquid down. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and he stares at the reflection in bewilderment; his skin seems to be bubbling. Tiny bumps underneath the surface of his flesh begin to change in tone and texture, transforming his usual copper complexion to a startlingly pale shade. His eyes go from their vibrant green to a steely grey, and his hair turns a vivid white. All throughout this, a tingly, burning sensation erupts under his skin and fizzles from his head to his toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, he’s looking at the reflection of Draco Malfoy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry inspects his new face, poking his pale cheeks and pointy chin. A stall bursts open behind him, and he whirls around to see a sick-looking Blaise Zabini staggering out, still clutching the glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bloody hell,” Not-Zabini says, running a hand over his face. He turns to Harry, wide-eyed. “This is well weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about it.” Harry says, just as the other stall opens and Pansy Parkinson walks out. Hermione has already changed into some Slytherin robes, and she looks at the two boys expectantly, managing to look only slightly ill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You best change. You can’t expect to go parading into the Slytherin common room in Gryffindor robes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron-Zabini rolls his eyes, and picks up the robes near the door before going into a stall again, Harry doing the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five minutes later, the three of them leave Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom with a mission: locate the Slytherin common room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t we think of this before?” Harry mutters quietly, scanning the dungeon walls through narrowed eyes, searching for any hidden entrances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should’ve asked someone.” Ron groans, and Hermione swats both of their arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no use complaining now. We’ll just have to search harder.” She says delicately, just as they hear a voice behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What're you three doing out here? You should be in your common rooms.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all turn around quickly, and Ron’s mouth drops open at the sight of Percy Weasley at the end of the dungeon corridor. Harry elbows him subtly, and Ron snaps his mouth shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione fumbles for a moment, staying silent. Harry, realising that he looks like Malfoy, tries to sneer at Percy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should be asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>that, Weasley. This is Slytherin territory.” He says snootily, putting on what he hopes is a Malfoy-worthy glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Percy glares right back, puffing out his chest to show his shiny Prefect badge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I happen to be a school Prefect.” Percy says haughtily, and starts walking towards them. “Now, I suggest that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Parkinson, Zabini, Malfoy! Where have you all been?” A different voice calls, and Harry recognises it immediately. He lets out a subtle breath of relief as Tom Riddle walks up to them, his face calm and his footsteps measured. They won’t have to wander the halls hopelessly anymore. Percy narrows his eyes even further, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at him. “Problem, Weasley?” he asks innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry can see Percy’s jaw clench as he grits his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all, Riddle. Just advising your… </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get to their common room.” Percy grinds out, and Riddle smiles pleasantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make sure they get there.” he says sincerely, and turns on his heel to walk down the dank dungeon hall. He doesn’t tell Harry, Hermione or Ron to follow him, but they do anyway. Riddle doesn’t say anything, so neither do they. Their footsteps echo off of the empty walls, the four of them taking complex twists and turns into the darkness of the dungeons. Harry can feel his skin crawling from the pressing shadows against his back, and hopes that the Slytherin common room is at least a bit warmer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, after what feels like hours of walking, Riddle stops beside a wall, which looks pretty much like all the others - stony and dark - apart from a small snake engraved in one of the stones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pureblood.” Riddle says smoothly, and the snake turns into a door handle. Harry sees Hermione-Parkinson scrunch her nose a bit out of the corner of his eye, and notices Ron move closer to her in comfort. Harry just focuses on the newly-formed door, and the fact that Riddle is holding it open for them. He walks through, Hermione and Ron following him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely pays attention to his surroundings, but does note that it is considerably warmer in here than in the hallways, and that the room has a slight green tinge from the river outside the windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle leads them over to a secluded part of the room, clearly claimed by him and the real trio before him. He gestures for them to sit, and they do, backs ramrod straight and stiff. Riddle settles into his own chair. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and neither do they. Riddle just stares at them for a while, his eyes scrutinising their every movement. Harry fidgets in his spot, but then remembers that Malfoy would never show his nervousness, and instead sits up straighter, lifting his chin higher. Riddle’s eyes follow the movement, then he sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? Where have you all been?” he asks placidly, eyeing them with an expression of boredom. Harry glances at Ron and Hermione out of the corner of his eye, only to find them both to be silent. It’s up to him, then. He clears his throat, and Riddle looks at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had some business with Dumbledore. He was asking about anyone suspicious in Slytherin who could have opened the Chamber…” he trails off as Riddle’s expression remains blank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what did you tell him?” he asks neutrally, his eyes seeming to burn holes into Harry’s head. He refuses to look away, however, and meets his gaze evenly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him that I doubt anyone in Slytherin would do it - and that I suspect someone from another house.” he tacks the last part on as a second thought, and sees Hermione’s gaze flash to him out of the corner of his eye. Still, he holds Riddle’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle hums, nodding slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suspicious fool. Of course he thinks it’s someone in Slytherin. Though, I suppose it’d make sense… he probably thinks it’s me. Prejudiced old fool really is the worst thing that’s ever happened to Hogwarts.” he says idly, his eyes finally leaving Harry’s face and instead inspecting his perfect nails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sees red. His fists clench, and he can’t help his glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re wrong!” he says ferociously, and sees Hermione duck her head, and Ron’s eyes widen in panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle’s dark brown eyes flick back over to him, and he raises an incredibly even eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? You think there’s someone here who’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse </span>
  </em>
  <span>than Dumbledore?” he asks, and Harry stays quiet, thinking fast. “Well? Do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron shakes his head frantically, and Hermione does the same. Harry, however, has a brilliant idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry Potter?” he suggests hopefully. Ron nods viciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle stares at him, and Harry gulps. Riddle says nothing for a long time, and Harry can feel sweat on the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What… did you say?” Riddle asks softly, his voice barely a whisper. Hermione’s eyes dart fearfully between the two, and Ron’s hand twitches towards his battered wand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry Potter is worse than Dumbledore…?” Harry says, though it sounds more like a question as his voice wavers. Riddle’s stare turns nasty, and he points his wand at Harry threateningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many times do I have to tell you, Malfoy?” he snarls, and Hermione squeaks in the background. “Harry Potter is my everything! He’ll be mine someday, I swear it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait. What?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry stares blankly at Riddle, ignoring the wand in his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WHAT?!” He hears Ron blurt out, and then his yelp as Hermione elbows him - quite harshly, by the sounds of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle glances at Ron, confused, and his eyes widen. Harry looks at him, too, and sees that Zabini’s hair is gradually turning bright orange. Riddle’s mouth drops open, and he looks from Ron, to Hermione - whose front teeth are slowly moving apart and growing longer, back into themselves - and back to Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Specifically, Harry’s forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even more specifically, right in the place that Harry’s scar should be. Harry’s hand flies up to it, and there it is - the bumpy texture of his scar is there again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, everything is quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them turn their heads, to see Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini all standing in the middle of the common room, looking pissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle looks from a now normal Ron, Hermione, and Harry, back to the three Slytherins. For once, his expression is completely confused and uncontrolled. Harry, trying to make light of the situation, grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Riddle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No response. Just a blank expression. Harry glances at Ron and Hermione, who are starting to stand. He does the same, leaving the actual Slytherins standing alone in their little corner. The trio make their way over to the common room entrance, and Harry lets Hermione and Ron leave before him. He turns back to Riddle, who is staring at him with a - is that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>blush?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look nice with a blush.” he blurts out, then claps his hand to his mouth as Riddle blushes even darker. “Uh- Sorry. Bye.” he says lamely, waving a little, before rushing out of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trio walk back to Myrtle’s bathroom in shocked silence, each of them trying to process what just happened. When they finally arrive and change back into their normal robes, Ron is the first to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the bloody hell was that?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry comes up with yet another genius plan.<br/>It definitely won't go wrong.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>alternative chapter title: <br/>c h a o s.<br/>that's it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Confusion is a very frustrating emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, these days Harry finds himself in a constant state of confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aside from the accompanying frustration, he discovers that there are actually many stages of confusion;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s bewilderment. There’s numbness. There’s denial. There’s oh-my-god-did-that-actually-happen. And then there’s denial again.  Harry has gone through these stages several times in the past four days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hence, the frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t dreaming, right? You guys were there?” Harry asks Hermione and Ron for the umpteenth time - he just has to be sure!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione rubs her temples, as if coaxing away a terrible migraine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Harry. We were there. It did happen.” she says, in a tone that’s probably supposed to be patient but instead makes her sound like she’s talking to a toddler.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry flops onto an armchair in their common room, glad that everyone else is in lessons. “But- But he didn’t mean it, did he? Like, he must’ve known it was us from the beginning, and wanted to prank us-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The day Riddle pranks someone is the day that Fred becomes Minister.” Ron says, snorting. But Harry isn’t paying attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s too busy convincing himself that Riddle had been lying. It makes perfect sense! Riddle’s not stupid, he must’ve realised the three of them were imposters immediately, and thought it’d be funny to play with Harry’s feelings. The snobby git’s probably still laughing at him! Harry balls his tiny fists and glares accusingly at the roaring fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fine, then. If Riddle wants to play that game, they’ll play it. Harry’ll play him so hard he’ll never know what hit him!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione watches Harry’s speculating, not even having the energy to be disbelieving anymore. It’s just business as usual with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom Riddle stares at the dormitory wall, face blank and eyes unseeing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How could he have been so </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He should have known it was Potter, the signs were so clear!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now look what’s happened. He’s gone and </span>
  <em>
    <span>confessed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to him. As if he’s some dewy-eyed fangirl! Tom rubs a hand across his face, still staring dumbly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn’t seen Harry for four days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The… </span>
  <em>
    <span>outburst </span>
  </em>
  <span>had been on Sunday, and the only lesson they have together is Transfiguration on Friday. So he’d see him tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom sighs. There’s no use trying to predict Harry’s reaction. That boy always surprises him. Tom lays down, and stares at the ceiling instead - just as a change of scenery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, the events sink in, and Tom wants to scream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because bloody hell, he’s confessed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harry Potter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Humiliation aside, a small fluttering of insects in Tom’s stomach makes him smile. Harry had said he looks nice with a blush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a brand new day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and Harry has the greatest revenge plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s going to flirt. He’s gonna flirt Riddle so well that he’ll fall for Harry whether he wants to or not. Then, Harry can reject him, and then he’ll be the winner!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason, Hermione isn’t sold on the idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, I really don’t think that’s fair,” she says as they walk down the main staircase, putting on her lecture-voice. Harry groans inwardly - this can’t be good. “Suppose he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>being serious. Then what? You’re just going to lead him on for nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shakes his head. “Of course he wasn’t being serious, ‘Mione. Riddle doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>emotions.” he says, as if this is common knowledge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione opens her mouth to say more, but as she does, Riddle walks by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Potter.” he says, nodding stiffly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry grins; it’s showtime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Tom!” he says sweetly, and Riddle blinks - the Tom-version of looking gobsmacked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry hears Hermione sigh beside him, but doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking at her. He just keeps smiling at Riddle, silently congratulating himself for coming up with this awesome plan. He should get an award.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments of shocked silence, Riddle pulls himself together and nods stiffly, before stalking off in the direction of the Great Hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry turns to Hermione, giving her a smug look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phase one: first name basis, is complete. Mission successful.” he says triumphantly. “Now for phase two: kindness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything. There’s no point - Harry’s too far into his own dumbassery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now, as my reward: breakfast.” he declares, and marches toward the Hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes his own brilliance astounds him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron is already at the Gryffindor table when they arrive, and he waves them over, grinning around a mouthful of eggs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What took you so long?” he asks, and Hermione wrinkles her nose in disgust at the blatant disregard of manners. She sits down across from him nevertheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Swallow your food before speaking, not everyone wants to see the contents of your mouth.” she says, and Ron dutifully ignores her. To his credit, he does swallow before continuing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What held you up?” he asks, grabbing a piece of toast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Riddle,” Harry answers absently, his eyes flickering over to the Slytherin table on instinct. Riddle’s there, in the same spot as always - at the head of the table. Of course. He probably thinks it makes him look important or something. Git. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of eating, however, Riddle seems to be staring past Malfoy’s head. Malfoy doesn’t look happy about this, and Harry can see him drop his fork impatiently and roll his eyes. Ron follows Harry’s gaze, and makes a grunt of begrudging acknowledgement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, what’s the posh git done this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione huffs in agitation, flashing Harry a </span>
  <em>
    <span>look.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She butters her toast with a bit more aggression than usual, and Harry struggles to keep a straight face, so he ducks his head to avoid injury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. Riddle has done absolutely nothing.” she says haughtily, and Harry fiddles with his fork with what he hopes is an innocent smile. Ron looks at Harry in confusion, and Harry just shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a plan.” he says simply, and Ron snorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Let’s hear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Harry tells him his fabulous plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Harry doesn’t quite receive the reaction he’d been hoping for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Ron says, toast lying forgotten on his plate. Harry shakes his head happily, and Ron’s eyes widen until he looks like the weird elf that visited Harry at the start of the year. “You’re gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he exclaims, and Harry shushes him, glancing at Riddle. Who is now mobile… for the most part, anyway. “You’re gonna what?” Ron asks once again, though in a much more reasonable Secret Planning tone this time. Though, he looks a little green around the edges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t act so horrified. I’m a great flirter. I’m like- Hermione, who’s that guy? Casarover? Casanova! That’s it! I’m like Casanova.” he says, but neither of his friends are listening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron is staring at Hermione disbelievingly. “You’re going along with this?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione shakes her head rapidly. “Of course not! I’m watching from a safe distance, waiting for my I-told-you-so moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry is very offended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys are meant to support me in every decision I make!” he exclaims, and they both shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry mate, but… well, it’s just- it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Riddle.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Ron says, as if this explains everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>revenge.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Harry puts down his fork, looking completely calm, and not as if he may have lost it. He instead takes out his timetable, like everything is fine and dandy, and this is just a normal day, which it’s not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Transfiguration is second period. Just one hour until Harry can make his next move. He grins, and shifts his gaze over to Riddle - who is already looking at him. Instead of looking away, as he usually does, Harry meets his eyes, and waves at him cheerfully. It’s in that moment that Riddle’s eyes are a nice, warm, chocolatey colour. Not that Harry cares what his eyes look like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides that, he’s rewarded by Riddle’s cheeks going slightly flushed, barely visible from across the Hall, and his chocolatey eyes looking away swiftly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry’s smile turns a little softer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle really does suit a blush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charms class couldn’t have gone slower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry has been itching to get to Transfiguration the whole time, and ends up accidentally making his whistle bark like a dog, instead of mimicking a bird call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also comes to the realisation that…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He may not actually be that great at flirting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows how to be nice to people, sure, but he’s pretty sure that there’s more to flirting than just manners. Harry supposes compliments is a good way to start, but… he’s never had much experience with compliments. The Dursleys never complimented him, and his two best friends are always arguing. He supposes he’s heard Aunt Petunia compliment Dudley lots of times, though none of those really seem relevant here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows how to compliment people. But, he doesn’t exactly do it a lot. What if he sounds weird? What if he gets nervous and messes up? What if Riddle thinks he’s being creepy instead of flattering? Harry glances at Seamus, who’s sitting to his left. He’s heard his friend boasting about having lots of girlfriends before, maybe he can help…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nudges Seamus when Flitwick turns away. “Hey, I need some help. Can you teach me to flirt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seamus blinks at him. “Why…?” he asks cautiously, then glances around at the different girls in the room. “You got your eyes on someone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry pauses. “Uh… Kind of? It’s a long story. But look, I just need advice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so his flirting lesson commences. Honestly, he never knew it could be so easy. Seamus has given him so many cool lines, and even some actions, too! Harry grins at him at the end of class, and Seamus smiles back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck, mate!” he says to Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks!” he answers, and heads off to Transfiguration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>ready for this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is not ready for this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle is </span>
  <em>
    <span>right there!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry glances at Ron out of the corner of his eye, but the redhead doesn’t do much to boost his confidence. He just shrugs half-heartedly, and goes to his assigned seat next to Goyle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry glares. Honestly, he needs new friends. He glances at his own seat beside Riddle, the Slytherin already there. His head is held high as always, but his hands are clenched and clammy at his sides. Harry takes one last deep breath, summons whatever confidence he has hiding away inside, and sits down next to Riddle with a calm smile in place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels RIddle glance at him out of the corner of his eye, so being the little shit that he is, he turns around to meet Riddle’s glance head-on. Those chocolate eyes widen fractionally as Harry tries to smirk at him. Harry twirls a piece of his horrendous hair between his fingers (he can’t remember if Seamus said he should do that, or if the ‘girl’ should do that, but whatever). Riddle tracks the movement, a slight furrow to his ridiculously neat eyebrows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you, Potter?” he drawls, sounding bored but looking alert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a matter of fact, yes you can.” Harry says, and tries to remember some of the lines Seamus gave him. Ah! He remembers now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riddle raises his eyebrow. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry takes another breath. Here goes…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you got a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them.” he blurts out, and Riddle’s mouth drops open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- what?” he stutters, and by this point, Harry isn’t too sure what to do, and he can feel his cheeks going hotter and hotter as the seconds go by. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what? My bed has room for two. Are you a TV? Because I like watching you. I told Santa I wanted you for Christmas. Is your mum a beaver? Because damn! It’s lucky I’ve got my library card, because I’m totally checking you out! Did you just fart? Because-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning everyone! Turn to page 394 in your textbooks. Today we’ll be working on turning a sewing needle into a matchstick!” says McGonagall loudly, walking down the centre aisle of desks. Harry breathes out a sigh of relief, rapidly turning to face the front. He keeps his eyes distinctly away from Riddle, who does the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holy cow! Did that really just happen? He completely screwed up! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What had he been thinking?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, the answer to that question is - he hadn’t been thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry can feel Riddle’s tension beside him, even after they both scoot to the far edge of their stools. The taught shoulders, the ramrod straight back; though Riddle does usually have good posture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What’s even worse? Harry can hear Ron snickering at the back of the classroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares at his desk, cheeks aflame and heart hammering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How is he gonna get himself out of this one?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i've decided there's gonna be multiple parts to this silly little oneshot! enjoy :)<br/>(there will be another one at some point)<br/>also, i'm really sorry if there are grammar mistakes/typos in this, it hasn't been edited</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Petirfying</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>some more tom pov, harry frightens a mouse, the bois get detention, and hermione has an incident of her own.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay so before we start! i finally have a few ideas for the directions this fic will take, but in order for them to work, i needed to change up the timeline a bit. meaning an event happens here that should happen later canonically. work with me sdfgh</p><p>another note!! this chapter is beta'd by the lovely dutch! (https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsevanffs/pseuds/itsevanffs )<br/>i owe you a big thanks for this one, angel &lt;3</p><p>anyways enough of my rambling, enjoy! i've certainly made you wait long enough - *cough* like a month *cough*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tom sits in his chair beside Harry Potter in his Transfiguration class, wishing he’d never been born. He can feel his face burning, though his expression, of course, remains unbothered and bored. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the inside, he’s screaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did Potter say those things? This, on top of the uncharacteristically cheery attitude at breakfast this morning, is really starting to drive Tom mad. Not that he’s inexperienced in that department. He’d come to realise long ago that having a crush on Potter is the most tiring, inconvenient, stressful thing that’s ever happened to him. It angers him, for this one Gryffindor idiot to have such an effect on him, yet he would never change it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh. That sounds horrible and cheesy, and Tom hates it. He seethes silently, the tension rolling off of him in waves. He can practically feel Harry’s embarrassment radiating from him, and can’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction. The stupid prat deserves it. What is his plan? To humiliate the both of them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever. Right now, he can’t afford to miss out on work because of some dumb things Potter says. McGonagall is introducing a new topic today, and he doesn’t want to be left behind. At least he doesn’t have to worry about any bias from her, though. Unlike </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>teachers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to pay attention to the lesson. He really does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the presence of Potter is just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>loud</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the class commences the practical part of the lesson, Tom has no choice but to finally confront the boy sitting next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck, Potter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry stares at him with wide eyes for a few moments. Tom looks right back. They are going to get this over with, so the two of them can go back to how things were. After about two minutes, Potter puts on a wonky smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What d’you mean, Riddle?” he asks, his voice a little shaky but overall breezy. Ah, so he just wants to forget this ever happened, huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, no, that’s not happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know exactly what I mean. Bursting in here and making a scene? I do have a reputation to uphold, you know? I can’t let it be tarnished by some overexcited Gryffindor trying out his next… whatever that was!” Tom hisses, struggling to keep his voice down. McGonagall walks by their desk, and he smiles pleasantly at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter looks frustrated now. “What, you’re only worried about what people think of you? That’s rich, seeing as most of the people I know think you’re a stuck-up prick,” he bites out, angrily muttering the incantation to his mouse. Tom can’t contain his laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I care what people think - but your little Gryffindor friends are not my target audience. I’m well aware of what they think of me, and it doesn’t bother me whatsoever. Their opinions don’t matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry seems to be losing his composure, and the small mouse on the desk in front of him looks terrified. “Don’t speak about my friends that way,” he says between gritted teeth, and Tom raises a teasing eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t recall ever insulting them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said their opinions don’t matter!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a plain fact.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter’s face contorts in anger, and he points his wand at Tom threateningly. “Why you-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr Potter!” shouts McGonagall from behind her desk. “What on </span>
  <em>
    <span>earth</span>
  </em>
  <span> do you think you’re doing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom watches as Harry averts his glare, dragging his eyes away to look at McGonagall. His fierce expression turns to one of bewilderment as he notices all of the eyes on him, and he looks down at his wand curiously, before hurriedly stuffing it into his robe pocket. He smiles pathetically, clearly trying to laugh it all off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall, predictably, is not amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well? I demand an explanation!” she says sternly, fixing Harry with a fiery scowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry, as if on instinct, flinches away from the expression, and Tom (for what may be the first time in his life) acts without thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was my fault, Professor,” he blurts out. McGonagall’s eyes hook on him, and he schools his expression to one of reluctant shame. No backing out now. “I purposely provoked him. I said something I knew would make him angry, and…” he trails off, as if anxious about his revelation - which, partly, he is. Why had he acted so irrationally just then?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’ll have to think about that later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall’s glare softens by a degree, and she sighs heavily. “I’m disappointed in both of you. While you may have provoked Mr Potter, it is unjust to raise your wand to someone. Five points from both Houses-” The class groans. “-And detention tomorrow evening,” she says, her tone leaving no room for questioning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently Potter doesn’t get the hint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Professor, I have Quidditch practice tomorrow-” he begins desperately, but it’s cut off by another icy glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tomorrow evening, Potter,” she says, then turns back to her marking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom and Harry continue the rest of the lesson in silence.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>As soon as Harry reaches his dorm later in the day, he collapses onto his bed, burying his face in the sheets with a groan. Ron barely spares him a glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he groans again. And again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His best friend turns to him, looking resigned. “Yes, Harry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What d’you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron rolls his eyes. “Well, there’s no point sitting there sulking. Just say it already.” he says, shrugging, before adding: “But make it quick - dinner’s soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry huffs irritably, but sits up nonetheless. “He just-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s just so-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spit it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slimy!” Harry shouts in frustration, running a hand through his unruly hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well done,” Ron says in a monotone voice, and walks over to the door. “Shall we go, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry glares at Ron, who stares, unimpressed, back. Finally, Harry sighs, rising to join him. “You’re acting like Hermione,” he mutters bitterly, incredibly satisfied at the horrified look on the redhead’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner passes, mostly, without a hitch. He notices that some of the Gryffindors, still bitter about their loss of points, give him a wide berth and the famous Side Eye he's become so accustomed to over the years. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously, you either love me or hate me people! Pick one and save me the effort</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks to himself absent-mindedly, stabbing some potato with a bit more force than necessary. He's also noticed that Riddle hasn't looked at him once during the entire meal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is fine. It's not like Harry </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> the git to lay his stupid dark eyes on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shakes his head, and continues mutilating his food. Hermione rolls her eyes, but having gotten the gist of what happened from Ron, decides to leave Harry to his brooding. Maybe detention will help him realise that Riddle is not, in fact, a 'slimy git'. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlikely, but a girl can hope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Interrupting the uncomfortable silence, Ron lifts his head to look at Hermione pointedly. "So... we just giving up on the Chamber, then?" he asks, and Harry's fork pauses. Humming, Hermione shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I suppose </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>of us just got distracted by things," she says innocently, and Harry throws a glare at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not my fault," he mutters dejectedly, now using the fork to push the food around in what could be a conga. "Riddle's up to something. I bet he was lying down there, I bet he's the real heir-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, shut </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" Hermione says exasperatedly, and Harry blinks. "Honestly! It's always 'Riddle this', and 'Riddle that'! You know that life doesn't revolve around him? We could be researching now! Finding out which creatures can petrify, since we know it's a monster in the Chamber!" Hermione sits up straighter, and Harry internally rolls his eyes. Here we go. Another lecture. He glances at Ron for help, but is surprised to see his friend nodding along to her words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Or, maybe we can find out why it hasn't killed yet! Or why there are so many spiders running around like they're fleeing a beast, or-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that moment, Hermione stops so suddenly that Harry thinks she might have been hit with a body-bind. But then she speaks, and the thought shuts itself down immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, my God," she whispers, and Ron raises an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" he asks, but she doesn't answer. Instead, she leaps from her chair as if electrocuted, hurrying out of the Hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll see you later! I need to go to the library!" she calls to them, and Harry and Ron share a confused look before shrugging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's Hermione. What can possibly happen? </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, a lot can happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because as soon as they finish their third puddings and stand up to leave the Hall, McGonagall is rushing over to them, lips almost invisible with how tightly she's pursing them. Without a word, she gestures for them to follow. Confused, they comply, and Harry manages to sneak a peek at Riddle over on the Slytherin table - who is looking right back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sticks his tongue out at him, but hastily looks away as they reach the doors. McGonagall turns to them, hands clasped in front of her, knuckles white and bone-like. After a few beats of silence, Harry coughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is something wrong, Professor?" he asks nervously, glancing at Ron from the corner of his eye. The redhead looks pale and worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a good sign.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Potter. Something has happened... I think it would be best if you see for yourselves," she says, voice tense and pitying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another bad sign. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They follow her up to the hospital wing, with Harry being thoroughly confused the whole way (she won't answer </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> of his questions, dammit!), but once they reach the first bed, it all clicks into place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laying there, eyes frozen wide in terror, skin as cold as ice, and unmoving against the mattress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For one horrible moment, Harry thinks she's dead. Just like his parents, one of the most important people in his life - gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Ron squeaks in surprise, and McGonagall reassures them she's only petrified. "Almost as if she's asleep," she says. Only it's not as comforting as it should be, since Harry has heard Aunt Petunia tell Dudley this after his fifth pet mouse died from stress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mouse wasn't asleep, and neither is Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry is led out of the room in a daze, and he's somewhat aware of Ron beside him. He can't really look at his friend. Thinking of Ron makes him think of Hermione. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems... wrong, for him to have one without the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there's nothing he can do. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey, you should go check out my other oneshots<br/>only if ya want<br/>also join my writing discord! or else. https://discord.gg/mJbnHqd</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. listen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>hey<br/>this is important! please dont skip it. it's obviously not a chapter, but please have a read anyways.<br/>im gonna be putting this fic up for adoption. here's why.<br/>i feel like polyjuice confessions was always meant to be a one-time thing. i made a second part and continued it because people wanted it, but my style has changed a lot and whenever i think of continuing this i get all nauseous and sick and anxious. this isn't a plead for attention, or trying to make anyone feel guilty for asking for a second part, because i get it. for a while, this was fun. but it's not anymore, and i think that my lack of inspiration will take a toll on this story. i don't want to write something i'm not invested in, as the quality will surely go down and no one will enjoy it.<br/>i would also like to say again that my style has CHANGED. the tenses, the language... i really dislike this fic lmao. so yes, i'm putting this up for adoption. whoever adopts it is welcome to message me on tumblr and ask for the half-written part of chapter 4, and the plot i was going to go with. <br/>i'm not apologising, because i don't really need to. in the end, it's my work lol. just, whoever takes it, have fun with it! this is, in a way, my prized possession; a lot of people only recognise me as an author because of this fic.<br/>anyway, enough of my rambling. i'll be orphaning this on sunday the 24th of january - this weekend. <br/>drink some water, eat some food, take care of yourself. :)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey, you should check out my other oneshots.<br/>it would make me very happy.</p><p>only if you want 🥺👉🏻👈🏻<br/>also follow my tumblr. https://alfiisha.tumblr.com/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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